A Messy Buisness
by Qalam
Summary: AKA The five times one or both of the lads made a mess, and got away with it, and the one time they didn't. Basically just six light-hearted one-shots featuring our favourite two CI5 agents in various situations related to the title. Gen. UPDATE: Final part posted! In which Bodie is hungry, Ray is angry, and the lads get a telling-off - not as serious as it sounds :)
1. The First

**I don't own CI5, or any of its characters, but I'll send them straight back to HQ when I'm finished, promise!**

**There's no warnings for this, except that updates ****_may _****be sporadic, depending on inspiration and real life. =)**

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**I.**

The file opened, then pages were turned, one, two, before it was discarded carelessly on the table with a thump.

"There's nothing here Ray - and we've been through these files twice already!"

Ray hummed in response, half-heartedly scanning the page of the file he was perusing, before he glanced up and said dryly, "I value my life more than to turn up empty-handed in front of the Cow."

Bodie sighed in acquiescence and rested a cheek glumly on one hand, and flipping open another file, stared at it unseeingly.

The door banged open without warning, and both men reached for their holsters in tandem, Bodie's elbow neatly sweeping the whole stack of files onto the floor with his movement.

But it was only Cowley, who, accent thickened with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, announced, "We've got the address - thank God for Joe Public! - quickly now!"

Grabbing jackets from where they had been discarded, the agents obeyed with alacrity, Bodie nimbly hopping over the mess of papers on the floor as he followed Ray out of the lounge.

"_You're_ gonna clear that up," the curly-haired man told his partner as they strode after their boss.

"I thought that was what you were employed for?" Came the cheeky reply, before Bodie smartly increased his pace so he was flanking Cowley's right side, effectively placing a barrier between himself and the subsequent green-eyed glare.

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**Let me know what you think! =)**

**~ Qalam**


	2. The Second

**Second instalment! =)**

**Disclaimer in the first chapter.**

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**II.  
**  
Ray exploded out of the cylindrical wicker laundry basket among a rain of various garments, sending the lid clattering to the floor, and clambered disgustedly out of said storage container, shaking himself like a grumpy wet dog to dislodge the more stubborn articles of clothing.

Bodie slipped out from behind the door, and helpfully plucked a vest from his friend's shoulder, the smirk upon his face that he made no attempt to hide making Ray snap the shirt in his hand at him irritably.

"Next time, you can hide in the laundry!"

Bodie shrugged complacently. "I wouldn't fit mate - but a Tom Thumb like you - "

The rest of the ex-merc's sentence was lost as Ray picked up the basket, and shoved it on Bodie's head amid a shower of clothes.

A slight pause and then Ray commented snarkily:

"You were saying - _sunshine_?"

Bodie pulled the basket off himself with some difficulty, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter, as, draped with various pieces of clothing, he frowned petulantly at Ray.

"Sheesh - temper, temper!"

A few minutes later, one of the laundrette staff would come downstairs, and stare in perplexity at the haphazard trail of laundry leading to the back door.

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**Review? *best smile***

**~ Qalam**


	3. The Third

***waves creative license* You're going to have to suspend your disbelief a little in this one, and work with me - I've given the lads experience of a medium that I'm sure probably wasn't around at their time - but I don't think it's ****_too _****implausible the way I've incorporated it here - but you can let me know in a review when you've finished reading =P**

**Disclaimer in the first chapter.**

**EDIT: I forgot the tendency FF has to edit email/web addresses, so you'll have to excuse the spacing between the address now - it wasn't coming up properly otherwise.**

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**III.**

"Bodie!" Ray hissed, eyes wide as he glanced over his shoulder at the silhouette of the taller man hunched over the computer, before peering back out into the corridor where he was keeping watch.

"It won't send - it keeps saying _'invalid email address'_!" Bodie whispered in response, annoyance clear.

"What've you put in?"

"'morrisatCI5 . gov . uk' like Cowley said!"

Ray looked once more down either side of the corridor, and then pulled his head back inside the room, before slowly putting the door to and crossing the few steps to the computer.

As Ray crouched down by Bodie, the two heads, one curly-haired and the other straight, were thrown in stark relief by the monitor's glow, totally motionless. That was before the shorter of the two men whispered, though without any real heat, "You dumb crud - it has an 'at' in it!"

A flummoxed pause. "I put an 'at' there!" Bodie insisted, vehement but quiet, stabbing a finger at the relevant part of the screen.

Ray elbowed him. "Gimme some space, will yer," he muttered, before reaching for the mouse and clicking the cursor onto the email field.

Backspacing the word 'at' on the screen, he explained in a hushed tone, "This," he pressed the relevant key, "is called the 'at' symbol. All email addresses have one."

"Yeah, well how was I meant to know? This Internet isn't something that every man and his mother know about - it's top secret stuff!" Bodie groused as Ray clicked _'send.'_

To be fair to the ex-merc, the wires connecting the computer to its power source were not arranged in the most orderly fashion. So he wasn't _entirely _to blame when he stood and went around the desk, with the intention of keeping watch whilst Ray shut the machine down, and promptly tripped over the assorted wires, pulling the entire computer system down, despite catching himself a foot from the floor.

Rolling out of the way of the falling machinery as Ray leapt to his feet with a cut-off shout, Bodie very narrowly avoided a hefty blow to the head from the huge computer monitor, as the sound of expensive technology smashing all around him filled his ears.

Two hands hastily grabbed at him and pulled him upward, even as their owner muttered, "Quick, Bodie - time to go!"

The instant Bodie regained his feet, Ray let go of him and lunged towards the window, shoving it up with a grunt of effort.

Swinging his legs out first, Ray dropped the two storeys, the muffled thump of his landing echoed as Bodie followed suit.

Slipping across the grounds like a pair of wraiths, they were gone by the time the guards burst into the darkened room, and discovered the scattered equipment, and shattered glass of the computer screen.

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**Review? =)**

**~ Qalam**


	4. The Fourth

**Thank you to ****_YnitOcelot, _****_Wilsden_ and _Sylvie Orp _****for taking the time to review - I really appreciate it! =)**

**As you well know by now, the disclaimer is in the first chapter.**

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**IV.**

Bodie pushed the car door open, and pulled at the already-open collar of his shirt, looking at sunglasses-adorned Ray over the roof of the Capri.

"I never thought I'd say it after the winter we had, but I wish it would rain!"

Ray nodded in agreement as he locked the car. "Same here mate."

Amid the sound of aimless chatter, they made their way into HQ and reported to Cowley's office.

The Scot had his top button loose, but his tie was still pulled tight, and he looked somewhat uncomfortable despite the fact the windows were thrown wide.

"Enjoying the heat wave sir?"

Unusually, Cowley took Bodie's flippancy at face value, and stood from his desk to walk over to one of the windows.

"No, Bodie, I can't say I am. But there's a dark cloud that's headed our way - that promises well."

Both agents crossed over to the window to have a look, and exchanged grins at the sight of the positively growling cloud that was slowly drawing nearer.

Cowley soon burst their bubble with a curt reminder of, "Haven't you got reports to write up - the ones you were meant to have finished yesterday," the older man added sternly, and Doyle hastily said 'Yes sir,' and hustled a protesting Bodie out of the room.

As they made their way to the lounge, Bodie shoved Ray playfully. "Not like you to be so civil sunshine," he teased, and laughed when the ex-cop replied casually, "Well, he hasn't signed my expense chit for this month yet."

The sweltering weather meant that the usually slow progress of report-writing was made all the more so - a fair while later, and Ray was working on his concluding paragraph whilst Bodie still had several left to go, courtesy of the fact he had spent his time yesterday playing solitaire instead of writing.

_Pitter. Patter. __**Pitter-patter. **_**Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter...**

Ray dotted the last full stop with a flourish, and looked up out of the window in time to see the heavens open in earnest.

Bodie cheered, before glancing back down at his report morosely, and lifting his pen once more with a sigh.

Ray, meanwhile, disappeared from the lounge for a minute or two, returning with a wide grin and a football tucked under one arm.

"Fancy a kick-about?" He suggested casually, leaning against the doorframe, and Bodie replied with relish, "You're on!"

Hastily scribbling a few words to finish his report, he discarded the biro on the table, snatched up his report, and both men left the room for Cowley's office without a backward glance.

Pausing outside the office, Ray dropped the fluorescent yellow football on the floor, nudging it to rest against the wall, and then gave Bodie a nod to open the door.

Cowley didn't even look up when they dropped their reports on his desk, intent on his phone conversation and simultaneous scribbling, and the two agents lost no time in making as hasty-yet-stealthy an exit as they could - before the man in question could order them off to a stakeout – or worse yet, confine them to the file room, digging up the facts to some antiquated case.

But for once, their escape was successful. Bodie put the office door to with excruciating care, and Ray made to flick the ball up and into his hands with his foot, when the former slipped around him. The ex-merc hooked the ball neatly away, and took off at a run down the corridor, dribbling the ball all the way, and his partner was immediately in hot pursuit with an indignant yell of, '_Oi!'  
_  
Half an hour of scuffling with the ball on the grass around the back of HQ later, it was a soaked-to-the-bone, mud-trailing, but infinitely happier pair of agents that made their squelching way back to the lounge.

And if the cleaner almost cried later in the evening, upon seeing the corridor leading in from the back entrance that now resembled a river bank, well, he was obliged to keep any suspicions (founded or no) to himself – after all, it seemed Cowley took great exception to anyone apart from himself giving those two a roasting – and the controller certainly never fell short of the task!

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**Please review, even if it's only a word or two =)**

**~ Qalam**


	5. The Fifth

**Fifth part - a little serious near the beginning, but it lightens up. =)**

I'd like to thank _Halcris, Wilsden, _and _YnitOcelot _for taking the time to review! =D

**Disclaimer in the first chapter.**

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**V.**

Neither had particularly wanted to go home after the events of the day, and be alone with their thoughts. So after some decidedly half-hearted wrangling, they ended up here, sat in a non-descript restaurant. Conversation is noticeably absent, but then again, they are in wait for the first food they have consumed in eighteen hours, so their energy levels are hovering dangerously in the Red Zone of the gauge, nearing zero.

Ray's fingers fiddle with a paper napkin, folding and unfolding as he slouches back in his chair. Bodie sits equally as slumped, head lolling against the back of the seat as he stares at a point over his friend's right shoulder through half-closed lids.

And they remain like that, uncharacteristically morose, until a waiter delivers their respective plates, and receives the quietest of thanks from both men.

Ray stares into the plate of lasagne as the steam twists and rises, buffeting his face gently. Meanwhile, Bodie loses no time in cutting into his steak, though the usual pleasure he seems to take in eating is noticeably absent, as he chews and swallows as if it is a grim task to be done, and gotten over with.

It is, to be quite frank, startling that there isn't a storm cloud hovering over the entire restaurant.

The instant they both finish, they pay and leave, the cloud trailing them as they both slide into their respective seats of Bodie's Capri.

The ex-merc thrusts the key into the ignition, and then sits motionless, making no move to start the engine.

His friend assesses him with the briefest of glances, and remains silent, regarding the glove box blindly.

"He was only a rookie," comes the eventual statement, unfeeling to the ears of anyone except Ray, and perhaps their hard-nosed boss.

"Yeah." Ray stares out of the windscreen at the sky that was a deceivingly mild shade of pastel grey and blue, the same expanse that had not a day or two ago brought sheeting rain and howling winds, and sighs, exhausted beyond all measure. "I know."

They catch each other's eyes for a long moment, then Bodie twists the key in the ignition, and the engine rumbles to life.

It isn't until Bodie pulls up outside Ray's apartment that they break the contemplative silence that has settled between them, and even then, it is in voices oddly hushed.

Ray moves to climb out, but pauses with his hand on the door handle, turning back to his friend. "There's a game on," he says abruptly, "and I think I'm gonna make some cocoa. Fancy it?"

Bodie half-tilts his head, and for what feels like the first time in an eon, a grin upturns the corners of his lips ever-so-slightly. "Can't say no to that."

The tiny smile is returned by Ray, and then they both push open the doors of the silver Capri in tandem.

Tilting his head heavenward as he waits on Bodie to lock the car, Ray watches a single silhouetted bird fly past, barely a few feet above him. The breeze is brisk, and the hedges and trees shiver as it stirs them up.

A tap on his upper arm brings him back to the present, and Bodie crosses to stand before the locked door of the house, tilting his head towards it.

"Earth to golly, come in golly," Bodie teases a little hesitantly, and Ray fumbles for the key and opens the door.

"Do you want cocoa or not?" Is the immediate threat, and the younger man holds up his hands in surrender.

"You wouldn't deprive a growing lad, would you?"

"If you grow anymore old son, people'll start mistaking you for a lamppost," Ray throws back easily, indicating the sofa with a wave of his hand as he crosses to the kitchenette.

Bodie obliges, flopping down, and turning on the telly.

A pause, and then: "Raaaay?"

"What?"

"Have you got whipped cream for the cocoa?"

A hum as the refrigerator door is pulled open. "Yeah – I don't know how you can have that on top of cocoa Bodie – it's already sweet!"

"Well, _I_ like it," comes the matter-of-fact reply, immediately followed by an indignant outburst of 'Oi, he was _blatantly_ offside!' as the spectators at the ground erupt into a cacophony of cheers, boos, and general hollering.

Barely a few seconds later, Bodie twists around on the sofa.

"Raaaay?"

"_What_, Bodie?" Ray asks, without turning from the stove.

"D'you have sprinkles?"

Ray turns, and is greeted with the sight of the dark head propped on folded arms atop the back of the sofa, blue eyes endearingly wide.

They stare at each other, and then Ray is laughing so hard that he has to bend over to catch his breath, a definite edge of hysteria present.

As a result, the cocoa is left unattended and boils over with a splash that Ray narrowly avoids, laughter forgotten for a cut-off yell.

The sound of sniggering emanates from the sofa, and Ray rolls his eyes as he dumps the saucepan unceremoniously in the sink. He cleans up as much as is necessary, filing away the rest to do tomorrow in a corner of his mind, and begins the cocoa from scratch.

Bodie bounces over as soon as the other man begins to pour the cocoa into mugs, and insists on doing the whipped cream himself.

Meanwhile, Ray rootles inside cupboard after cupboard, muttering to himself, before emerging triumphantly from the last one, curls awry.

The bright grin on his best friend's face as he accepts the tub of sprinkles is reminiscent of a child presented with a particular spectacular plaything, and Ray rolls his eyes tolerantly as he snags his mug from the worktop, and crosses the room to sink carefully into the sofa - he can't begrudge the man something that makes a grin appear, not after the day they have both just suffered through.

Eventually, they are both seated on the comfortably worn sofa, yelling good-naturedly (and occasionally not so good-naturedly) at the screen, and drinking cocoa.

And if Ray lets out a particularly vociferous groan in the morning, upon seeing the mess of cream and sprinkles covering the work surface in daylight, the sink full of dishes, and then the cocoa-drowned stove - well, as he glances at his slumbering brother-in-arms on the sofa, he can't truthfully say it wasn't worth it.

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**Please review!**

**~ Qalam**


	6. And the one time they didn't

**This chapter is dedicated to ****_Wilsden, YnitOcelot, Sylvie Orp, _****and ****_Halcris _****- your reviews were undoubtedly a big factor in getting this series to its climax! Thank you =) **

**Disclaimer in the first chapter.**

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**...& the one time they didn't.**

"Ray, I'm hungry..." Bodie moaned pitifully, hands clasping his stomach as if he was in severe pain.

Ray gave a non-committal grunt, turned the page of his book, and carried on reading.

A few moments silence.

"Ray. Ray. _Raaay_!" That earned him a glare from beneath lowered brows.

Instead of being put-off, Bodie was encouraged by the response, and began reeling off the countless nicknames that he and others (but mostly him) had bestowed upon Doyle.

"Sunshine. Professor. Goldilocks. Ace. Golly. _Bionic_ Golly," and when Ray hunched a little further over the book resting on the table, determinedly ignoring him, Bodie played his trump card and bellowed,_ "Four-five!"_ in his best imitation of Cowley's brogue.

Recoiling in his chair, Ray's knees banged the underside of the desk hard, and the mug of steaming tea by his elbow promptly tipped over the book.

A yelped curse escaped Ray's lips as the scalding liquid ran over the edge of the table, and onto his jacket resting on his lap, and he knocked his chair over in his hurry to get up.

For several heartbeats, the only sound was a steady drip-drip as the tea began to form a puddle on the floor.

Bodie reached across gingerly to right the now-empty mug, not daring to take his eyes from Doyle, who was staring intensely at the ruined novel.

"That was a library book," he said finally, voice low.

Bodie relaxed. "That's alright then," he said glibly, completely oblivious to the death stare he was on the receiving end of. "You're always chucking them around anyw - "

A sopping wet and slightly steaming book hit Bodie square in the chest with a squelch, and slid down to land in his lap.

The ex-merc stared down at his ruined shirt-front in dismay. "This was a new shirt!"

"Yeah, you said before," came the wholly unsympathetic retort. "You're paying the library fee too," Ray added, completely serious.

Bodie stared. "Oh, come _on_ Ray!"

The pair of green eyes that looked back was decidedly unimpressed – four-five had just been getting to the good part of the story.

Scowling, Bodie picked up the poor drowned book, and looked consideringly from it, to the back of Ray's head that was presented to him as his friend shook tea from his jacket.

Well, if he was gonna have to pay for it, then it was his to do with what he pleased - right?

**_Splat._**

The look in Ray's eye as he turned sent Bodie into a neat roll behind the sofa, snagging a cushion on the way.

Popping up, he lobbed it directly into the face of his friend with a fearless yell, and was immediately beset by a jacket, two cushions, and something that passed him in a yellow blur as he ducked it - _a lampshade!?_

He hadn't time to check if it had indeed been a lampshade, as he gathered a handful of pens from the pot on the desk, and began to dart around the lounge, popping up at intervals like a rabid Whack-a-Mole to send his missiles flying at Ray from every whichway.

Eventually, he ran out of biros and crouched down behind the other sofa, listening hard.

Just as he dared to crane his head a little to peer over the top of the couch, the back of his neck prickled, and he made to turn - but too late! A cushion bopped him neatly on the head, before Ray dropped a bright yellow lampshade - so it _was_ a lampshade he had ducked! – on the dark hair, and grinned.

"It's a good look," he teased, and Bodie pulled a face, though inwardly congratulating himself on having defused the situation - he was no longer going to suffer capital punishment at Doyle's hands for the murder of a library book.

Reaching up to remove the offending object, Bodie froze as he heard Cowley's voice.

"Doyle - Bodie!" Came the familiar call, as uneven footsteps drew nearer.

Ray swept the chaos of the room with a single glance, as did Bodie, before they exchanged looks of abject horror.

As one, they made a dash for the window, both snagging a piece of evidence - Ray's jacket, and the book - each, and vaulted out.

Landing almost on top of each other in their hurry, they scooted around the corner of the building.

"Now what?" Bodie hissed, blue eyes wide. "If he thinks we didn't turn up all, we'll get a roasting, and," a glance down at his stained clothes, "if he sees us like this, he'll know it was us!"

Ray paused barely a moment, and then snapped his fingers.

"The cars!"

"Of course!"

Both men had a habit of keeping a change of clothes in their own and each other's cars, and had learned to do it the hard way - for it was always the time that the clothes had been forgotten that they would have had to dive into the Thames after a criminal, and then collect a foreign ambassador straight after, or some such circumstance.

This time, it was a dire situation indeed. Stealthily making their way to the car park, Ray kept watch as Bodie popped the boot of the silver Capri, withdrew two shirts and tossed one to his friend.

Ducking into the gap between the gold and silver parked Capris, they made quick work of switching their old shirts for new ones, and then Bodie shoved the evidence of their crime into a corner of the boot, and locked it.

Exchanging a glance, they made for the front entrance of HQ with all haste.

When they got in, they made for the usually empty briefing room, but were foiled by Cowley striding down the corridor towards them.

_"Great,"_ Bodie breathed sarcastically, pasting a grin on his face.

"Doyle, Bodie, where've you been?"

Both men opened their mouths, and promptly realised they hadn't agreed on a cover story. Fortunately for them, it was a rhetorical question, and the Scot ushered them into his office without waiting for a response.

Settling down behind his desk, he folded his hands on top of it, and surveyed them gravely.

They managed to refrain from fidgeting outwardly like a pair of mischievous school boys sent to the headmaster, but nevertheless both squirmed internally under the steady gaze.

Then Cowley indicated the chairs, and they sank into them gratefully as he began to speak.

"There's been a break-in - the window to the lounge was found wide open, and the room itself clearly ransacked in an attempt to search for something - we don't as yet know what."

Both men stared, and then caught each other's eyes and reached a decidedly unpleasant conclusion.

Bodie sat up straighter in his chair, and coughed a little.

"It wasn't a break-in sir," he began, "it was...um, that is..."

Ray chipped in dutifully. "We had a bit of a fight."

Bodie hastily amended Ray's sentence as Cowley's brows lowered forebodingly. "It was more of a scuffle, sir. We didn't mean anything by it. Sir," he added again, for good measure.

Cowley scrutinised them for a long minute, and then announced:

"I know."

At the twin looks of disbelief, he snapped, "Do you take me for an imbecile eh? Even burglars would've left the place more tidy than you two! The pens everywhere - I suspect that was you Bodie - the still-warm tea all over the table and floor - it was as plain as you both are stupid - and don't get me started on the rest of the room!" Cowley paused to let his words sink in, and then continued, "That you admitted to it is no redeeming action. You will clean up the lounge before you even _think_ of leaving the premises, return the Capris to the car pool for the next month," the curly head and the dark one shot up in plain distress at that, but Cowley was not yet finished. "And then you will supervise a pair of junior agents for the next week - _separately_."

That was the final blow, and duly chastened, both men sat stiffly straight in their chairs.

"I can't - _won't _- treat you both like the best agents of the squad of you refuse to act like it. Do you understand?" Whip-sharp, this query most definitely required an answer.

Two responses of _'Yes, sir,'_ were clearly heard, and it was a dejected four-five and three-seven that trooped out of the office at the crisp command of, _'Dismissed!'_

Slipping into the lounge, both agents stared in dismay at the destruction, and Bodie groaned a little, before hastily clamping his mouth shut at the glare he glimpsed out of the corner of his eye - it was no secret whose fault Ray thought this all was.

They stood surveying the room for an entire minute, almost as if they expected that the mess would clear itself up if they stared long enough.

Then Ray sighed, and his gaze shifted to the sideboard - more specifically, to the kettle sitting upon it.

"Fancy a cuppa?" He said finally.

Bodie surveyed him with an incredulous yet delighted grin, and then crossed over to the kitchenette. Crouching down, he rummaged in one of the lower cupboards, as Ray looked on in mystification.

All became clear when Bodie withdrew his arm to reveal - held in one hand as if it were the most precious object in the world - an unopened, jumbo-sized, chocolate Swiss Roll.

The ex-merc's grin became a smirk. "I do indeed fancy a cuppa, sunshine."

Ray shook his head in disbelief, and Bodie began to laugh, dark eyes bright with mirth.

The sound of Ray's laughter soon joined his friend's, and he reached for the kettle.

There was an easy silence as they sat down a few minutes later, broken only by the clink of the mugs placed on the coffee table, and the rustle of plastic as Bodie slit open the wrapping of the Swiss Roll with reverent care. He cut two generous slices, and proffered the first to Ray with exaggerated deference, who accepted it with equally inflated protestations.

With a hum of contentment, Bodie sunk his teeth into his slice, balancing his mug on his knee, one hand gingerly cradling it for warmth.

Ray swallowed his first bite of cake, sipped at his tea despite the fact it was obviously too hot, and then said matter-of-factly:

"You're still paying for the book."

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**And that's the end of this mini-series! =) **

**Please leave a review, especially the ghost readers who haven't yet (the traffic stats don't lie, guys - I know you're there!) it really does mean so much to a writer.**

**Thanks for staying with ****_A Messy Buisness _****to its end! **

**~ Qalam**


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